


Echoes

by alternate_me



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Gen, Grief/Mourning, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-10
Updated: 2014-03-16
Packaged: 2018-01-15 05:54:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1293784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alternate_me/pseuds/alternate_me
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam'd always thought that if someone had to die it should be him. In the end it wasn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Brother

He looked over the high pile of notebooks, gazing at nothing specific. He could feel the anxiety in his stomach, climbing through his throat, making his heart beat faster. The sunlight was upon the table, warming it, warming him as much as it was possible in that cold day of winter.

The known sadness came to him mingled with that feeling of impotence, of uselessness. He wishes once again everything could have been done differently. But there he was, caught in the escapeless duty of living day by day, of enjoying what he had taken away from the one person he loved the most.

The door was suddenly opened, interrupting his line of thoughts. Amanda showed up and threw an easy smile at him.

-Hi, you.

He got up instinctively, awkwardly.

-Hi – he answered, his head facing the floor.

She started putting her grocery shopping on the table while he remained standstill in the middle of the room.

-I’ve thought you’d be in the library today, because of that big test next week – she looked up at him – But that’s a fine surprise.

She threw her arms around his waist and then noticed something was upsetting him. 

-Sam, what’s wrong? – she asked – Are you okay?

He looked away evasively. 

-No.

-Is it one of those days? – she said after a while.

-Yes – he answered dryly and untangled her arms, walking towards the table.

-Do you want us to do something together? – she said helpfully – I could go for a day off from books actually.

-No, I think it’ll be better if you stay here – he said – I’ll go for a ride. Alone.

The rudeness in all of his answers just seemed to worry her even more.

-Are you well enough to drive?

-Yes.

He picked up the keys - the Impala keys – and made mention of walking towards the door.

-What time will you be back?

-I. Don’t. _Know._ – he said angrily – Just leave it, ok – he burst out - I need time for myself. Forget me for a while. Can you do this?

He slammed the door on his way out and ran down the stairs. 

Amanda was silent for a moment or two, she was breathing fast, angry at his manners, wishing to shout at him everything she had endured in the past months. But she knew his story, she also understood about loss, and she loved him. 

She knew that phase would pass; she knew it was inevitable, necessary. Then she just made herself a sandwich and sat down to study for her last exams.

***

He felt bad for being rude to her as soon as he stopped the car. He was feeling a little better, the ride had done him some good. He thought of Amanda calmly now. If he could he would apologize to her at that very moment. She had supported and helped him when he was at his worst, and he swore at himself for being such a jerk with her. 

But realizing how bad he had acted didn’t keep his mind away from his pain. The sadness was still there, prying in the corners of his mind. He sighed deeply and opened the car door, stepping outside. He had parked by a sidewalk far away from his university, but well known of his. 

The sun shone shyly, the sky was clear with no sign of clouds, just the endless blue. Sam advanced slowly through the grass wet by last night’s rain. He suddenly stopped. He was before an old grave. One could see the effect of time on the darkened metal letters that composed his mother’s name.

Sam sighed once more, that feeling still pressing his chest, making his breath heavy. He lifted his head away from the grave and looked around. At first it looked like an attempt to relieve his pain, but soon one could see he was looking for something or someone in the distance. But there was no one at the cemetery but a mother and daughter leaving flowers in a dark grave nearby. 

He was truly looking for someone, a dark haired man wearing a trench coat. He would always do it when visiting the cemetery for there had been the last place Sam had seen him, just a month after- 

But he wasn’t there, as he hadn’t been last time, and Sam’s ways of finding him had been proved inefficient. There was nothing else he could do. 

Sam lowered his eyes again. His feet were heavy when he stepped aside, looking at the newer and shiner grave that lay now before him. He had insisted on putting it beside his mom’s. Tears came to his eyes as he read the name of Dean Winchester for maybe the thousandth time. 

He’d believed the battlefield had stiffed his judgment of pain and loss, rationalized it. But people are not the same, neither are their deaths nor the pain they cause. He had even told Dean he would let him go if he chose so. He had sounded as if it was natural, even easy, an automatic thing. And for the past few months he had been experiencing the consequences of being so mistaken. 

“You’re the kind of person who gets over”.

And still there would be days when he couldn’t sleep, when that feeling would suppress his chest; days when he would wake up screaming, covered in sweat.

Now, standing there, he would remind of Dean’s eagerness of keeping him safe. The pain in his chest increased as he realized once more he would never hug him again nor see that smile on the easy face which actually had a lot of suffering underneath. His brother’s voice was getting weaker every day, soon enough he wouldn’t remember it. And he wished he could do something to stop it, but he couldn’t.

“You’ll go on, because it’s on you”.

And there he was, kneeling and crying helplessly in front of his big brother’s grave. He felt lost, more than he had ever thought it was humanly possible. He finally understood what it meant to be alone; he understood Dean’s fears at last. He had been left behind, alive, with the perspective of a bright and happy future ahead of him, but it hurt he was the only one. 

Sometimes living an ordinary life after seeing so much of what he had seen was just like a curse. In those days he would feel that anxiety and sadness eating him up.

And right now he just felt wrong, as if he didn’t belong there.

As if he’d never belonged _anywhere_.

***

-I’m doing more good than bad.

Sam looked down, upset.

-That’s not what I meant, Dean. You shouldn’t do this.

Dean was standing in front of him with a decided expression on his face. He chuckled.

-Yeah, so you can take my place, eh? Sacrifice yourself to close the gates of Hell? 

-The point is I’ve almost succeeded last time.

Dean frowned, clearly angry.

-Are you doing this because you think you deserve to die? You think because a demon fed you with his blood when you were a baby you have to go down that road? – his voice was harsh – We’re over it, Sam. And I’m doing it. End of story.

Dean made mention of walking away, but Sam hold him by the arm.

-No, Dean, you’re going to listen to me. I was supposed to be dead. That’s why-

-And I was supposed to be in Hell – Dean freed himself from his brother’s hand.

-You were there only because of me. There’s no logic in me living and you sacrifice yourself – as Sam spoke Dean was controlling himself to keep himself calm - Or can you explain why you have to- 

-I’ve got no hope, Sam – he burst out, his voice trembling – That’s why.

He stopped for a while, trying to control his tone of voice.

-You’re the kind of person who gets over – he looked up as tears came to his eyes – I’m not.

Sam sighed. He looked at his brother without knowing what to say.

-I didn’t ask for it, but that’s what I was always supposed to do – Sam finally said.

Dean couldn’t listen to that any longer.

-To hell with all of this crap – his voice was full of anger – You’ve once told me I was trying to save you because of me. The truth is I can’t _bear_ to see you die _again_. It may be selfish, but I can’t let you do it. It’s not on me, and I’m sorry for that.

-You need to respect my decisions, Dean.

-No, I don’t; I _really_ don’t. And you know why? Because I know you can have a beautiful family even after seeing the worst of this world and knowing how many dangers are out there. I can’t, and it’s not fair of me taking that away from you.

Sam raised his eyebrows. He couldn’t believe that.

-You did live with Lisa and Ben for a year.

-Yeah, see how good it brought them.

-Again, all of that just happened because I came back. Maybe life hasn’t been fair to both of us, but you _are_ capable of having a family and a normal life as much as I am.

-I missed my life while I was there. I was always worried and afraid something would happen. I could never do that forever, I would crack sooner or later.

-But people change, Dean. There are other possibilities beyond being a hunter.

-You know certain things never change, Sam. Maybe it would have been different if I had been raised other way. But then I wouldn’t be myself, would I? – he swallowed - Being a hunter is all I know, all I could become from the moment Azazel killed our mom – he took a breath, one could see how much it still hurt him - And the only thing I’ve been doing for a longer time is taking care of you. This includes both.

There was nothing else of reasonable Sam could say. He stepped forward, serious and worried.

-So, are you going to respect me at least once? – Dean asked.

-Dean, there is no coming back from this. I won’t be able to bring you back.

Dean nodded silently.

-I’m not asking you to.

Sam’s eyes were filling up with tears. He opened his mouth, but he could say nothing else.

-It’s for the best, Sam. I know you understand it as I know you’ll be okay.

-How can you be so sure?

Dean smiled. A single smile free from all the pain he was feeling.

-I know you better than I know myself.

-And that’s always been your problem – Sam smiled too, sadly.

Sam waited for the moment Dean would turn his back at him and walk away. But he wasn’t done yet.

-Promise me just one more thing, Sam.

-Sure.

Dean chuckled.

-It’s a dumb request anyway, but tell your kids about their uncle, will you?

Sam swallowed.

-I promise.

Dean smiled at the reply and stepped forward, hugging Sam for the last time.

-Goodbye, Sammy.

And Sam just hold him a moment longer before letting him go.


	2. The Angel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One case a month.  
> His thought was upon it right now, for that was his third case in that month.  
> He looked down to the angel fastened to the chair inside the burning holy oil circle.  
> That was the second thing that was upsetting him. Most of his last cases somehow involved angels.  
> Something was happening in Heaven, and he had no idea of what it could be.

He had met Amanda months ago and he had loved her from the moment he first talked to her. She was smart and funny, and when he told her he had had a recent loss, he hadn’t expected her to understand and comfort him as she did.

She was attending law school as well, and they spent most of their time in his or her apartment, studying and talking. He could clearly see a future with her; kids, and a beautiful house, things he had always wanted and had already lost hope of getting.

But he would have to tell her what he actually did in certain times he left home.

He had retired from hunting, or so he had told himself. The truth is he had reduced his area of operation to the surroundings of the city he now lived in. There would be one case a month, if there was so. Life was supposed to be very easy after the gates of hell had been closed and yet-

But that wasn’t what was bothering him.

One case a month. 

His thought was upon it right now, for that was his third case in that month. 

He looked down to the angel fastened to the chair inside the burning holy oil circle. 

That was the second thing that was upsetting him. Most of his last cases somehow involved angels. There was something very strange happening, and Sam was afraid they were gathering because of him, that maybe it was related to his former life. And he feared for Amanda above all.

The angel had spent the last five minutes strangely asking him not to kill him.

-Let me go, _please_. I did nothing wrong – he begged.

Sam was not used to frightened angels. But he wouldn’t fall for it. 

-I just want you to answer some questions – Sam said.

-I did _nothing_. Please, don’t hurt me – the angel had his eyes closed tightly, refusing to look at him.

-Answer the questions and maybe I’ll let you go.

The angel suddenly stopped and opened one eye, prying shyly. 

-Do you promise?

Sam looked puzzled at him, almost losing his patience.

-Yes – he paused - Listen, what’s happening here?

-What do you mean? – the angel retrieved unconsciously.

-I’ve caught three of your fellow angels in the last month. Tell me why you are after me.

The angel opened both of his eyes widely. He looked surprised.

-After you?

-I’m not playing games here – Sam leaned forward and drew his angel blade off his inner jacket pocket, putting it on the angel’s neck – I’m no fool, and I’ll not hesitate to kill you if I have to.

Sam thought he had convinced him, instead the angel started to giggle. Low at first, and then it became an uncontrolled laughter. Sam pulled his head back and pressed the blade against his neck just enough to a fillet of blood be seen on the surface of the white flesh. The angel wouldn’t stop laughing.

-Are-are you Sam Winchester? – the angel said when he finally stopped laughing and breathed. 

-Yes. Is that why you’re here?

-You really know nothing – the angel broke again in a nervous and incredulous laugh.

This time Sam pulled the blade from his neck and stabbed his arm. The angel screamed sharply.

-I. said. _“Tell me”_ – he pulled the blade back. The angel was silent now, breathing heavily in pain.

-You – the angel started to say – you really don’t know?

Sam lifted his blade again, but before he could do anything the angel shouted.

-Wait, wait, I’ll tell you. I just thought you were kidding, that you knew everything, because, well – he swallowed, looking suspiciously at Sam - because you and Castiel were really close.

A chill ran down his spine. He suddenly remembered he hadn’t seen Cas in months.

-Is Cas okay?

The angel looked at Sam between scared and incredulous.

-Yes. _Cas_ is okay. I can’t say it for the rest of Heaven though.

-What do you mean?

-What do you think I mean? All the angels you found and maybe killed – now his voice was full of anger – were _running_. We are trying to _escape_.

-Escape from what?

-You’ve really moved on, I give you that.

Sam pondered everything for a while.

-Are you saying you’re running from _Cas_?

- _Trying_ to. Not all of us succeed, most don’t even leave Heaven.

-I know Cas – Sam kneeled and looked fiercely into the angel’s eyes – and I don’t believe you.

-Maybe you’ve forgotten he once thought he was God and killed lots of us – his face was serious, not a trace of laugh left on it.

-He’s changed. He would _never_ do that again. He told us so, – Sam swallowed – he told Dean. And I know him.

-You keep saying that but you’ve just known him for like six years. Your human mind can’t even understand how long he’s been alive. You know nothing at all about Castiel.

Sam felt a doubt passing through his confidence and getting into his mind. What the angel was telling him made sense, and he felt stupid for never noticing it. 

-Are you telling me he’s done worse in the past?

-Oh, no, no. Castiel has always been a loyal angel – the angel hushed to say and looked up as if remembering a distant time.

Sam opened a deep cut on the angel’s arm.

-I said no more jokes.

-I _am_ telling the truth. 

-What are you trying to say then? Go straight to the point.

-I am trying to tell you Cas used to be loyal till, well, till the Winchesters came into his life – he looked disgusted at Sam – Specially Dean, but I believe you know it. Back there I saw a side of him I’d never thought existed, I was not sure if I knew him anymore. Therefore I know _you_ can’t claim to know him that well either.

He was now convinced the angel was not lying. He remembered the times Cas had fought them, and he knew he had enough strength to do what the angel was telling him.

-Is he like when he thought of himself as God?

-No - the angel looked down and after a moment he raised eyes filled with fear and hatred, and Sam trembled just of thinking of what had brought such darkness into them –Back then he thought he was doing the right thing.

-So now he’s doing it even knowing it’s wrong? Doesn’t make any sense.

-Death and grief don’t make sense either. And part of us thinks that’s what he’s experiencing. 

Sam looked down, not knowing what to say. He’d never thought Cas would suffer that much, even knowing he was very close to Dean. He thought being an angel made things easier to bear. He saw now how little he knew Cas.

He wasn’t sure of what to do. Dean would know how to act. He always knew how to act when it came to Cas. He would call him and the angel would be there the next moment.

Cas hadn’t answered Sam for almost a year now, but he failed to see any other alternative.

-I’m going to talk to him – Sam turned his back at the angel and walked to the door of the abandoned barn they were in.

-No, please. _No_ – the angel shouted – You have no idea how he is now. He’s no longer the Castiel you knew.

-It’s worth the shot – Sam stopped and turned his head to the angel – I’ll be back in a minute.

-If you want to be killed, that’s fine by me. But if you call him, he will find _me_ – he struggled to burst the rope around him.

-You’re inside the holy oil circle, he can’t-

-It won’t stop him. _Please_.

-I’ll be right back – Sam said and went outside.

He stopped near the Impala and closed his eyes. He was shaken by all he had heard and not sure of what to believe anymore. He needed Cas there. He needed an explanation for everything, his behavior, the thrilling story he had just heard. 

So he prayed.

-Cas, I know you can hear me. I know last months have been hard and I want to talk to you, I want to know what’s happening. I need you, Cas, and I think you need me too.

Then he felt dizzy for a moment. He thought he would faint and he leaned to the Impala not to fall. He felt something he couldn’t explain, a strange feeling of hatred and anger he didn’t know from where it came.

And the next moment he was on the ground. He opened his eyes, not knowing how long he had been out. He sprang up the same time a loud and painful scream resonated in the air. 

He turned around and faced the barn, still confused, his head hurting. Almost simultaneously a blinding white light lit the windows of the building. And he knew at once what had just happened.

He ran as faster as he could, and by the time he got there he found the holy oil circle not burning anymore and, on the chair, a now inert angel with a blade stuck in his heart.

***

Sam was watching Dean to walk away from him, involved in the morning fog. It was the last time he would see him and tears were rolling helplessly down his face.

Then he listened to a familiar sound but couldn’t link it to its origin in the first moment. When he finally recognized it as the sound of wings, a man in a trench coat was already beside Dean.

Castiel held Dean’s shoulder and turned him over so they could look at each other. Then he grabbed his jacket and pushed him against a wall, leaning closer to him.]

-You _won’t_ do it – Cas whispered angrily to him.

Dean didn’t look surprised. He wasn’t upset. He was just looking at Cas impassively.

-Dean, you _can’t_ – the so far decided voice trembled.

Dean avoided Cas’s eyes, looking down.

-I need to, Cas – he finally said. No emotion in his words.

-You don’t, Dean. Anyone could do it.

-It’s not fair to ask anyone.

- _Your leaving_ is not fair. After all the things we’ve been through, after all I did for you, all the times I saved you, you’re really going to throw it away by sacrificing yourself?

-My life, my decision, Cas. 

Then the angel hit him against the wall again and punched his face. Dean fell to the ground and looked up at the angel, a fillet of blood on his lips.

-You can do whatever you want – he said, his voiced was harsh – Go ahead. But in the end I’ll not have changed my mind.

Cas looked down at him and it took a while, but his anger finally vanished. And his face became only sad.

-That’s the right thing to do – Dean’s voice was sad, but firm – It’s worth my life, my sacrifice.

-No, it’s not.

-I’m going to close all of those bitches in there, never to leave again. It’s enough for me.

Dean got to his feet slowly, leaning on the wall. He looked once again at Cas and walked away. Cas just kept staring at his back while he got more and more distant. There was absolute silence but for Dean’s footsteps.

-You know I won’t be able to save you from it – Cas voice vibrated in the still air.

Dean stopped and turned to him. Cas walked towards him till they were once again face to face.

-If you close the gates of Hell, I won’t have enough strength to undo it, to rescue you again – pain was all over him – It’s definitive. You’ll go to Hell for eternity.

-I know – he said, putting his hand on the angel’s shoulder – and I don’t want you to.

Cas frowned at him. He couldn’t understand why it had to be him to do it of all people.

-I’m tired, Cas – he explained as tears came to his eyes. He looked up trying not to cry – And if you- he swallowed and looked at Cas again - If I _mean_ anything to you, you’ll let me go.

-I don’t understand. If I care about you, why would I let you kill yourself?

-It’s called respect.

-I’ll respect you when your life is not on the table.

-Cas, I’m human - he smiled sadly – Someday you’d have to deal with it. You can’t keep saving me forever.

Cas opened his mouth, he clearly had an objection, but Dean didn’t give him the chance to talk.

-That’s my wish – the word _last_ was lost somewhere in the middle of the sentence, and it made Cas shut his mouth again.

They said nothing else for moments, not verbally at least. There were so many things - unspoken, hidden things - that were always so clear on their eyes, in the way they looked at each other. 

Sometimes you need to say nothing at all.

Then Dean smiled once more at Cas.

-Goodbye, buddy.

He turned over and intended to walk away, but Cas put his hand on his shoulder and made him turn once again. Then he walked the short distance between them and hugged Dean. 

For the first time he was crying; for the first and last time _he_ was hugging Dean. And Dean was a little confused, so he stood still.

-Now’s the part where you hug me back – Cas said.

And Dean did; he hugged him tight and rested his head on his shoulder. He was amazed, an easy smile was drawn on his face. Then Castiel sighed. And Dean knew he was going to say something after all.

-Dean, I-

-I know - Dean smiled, tears coming to his eyes while he bit his inferior lip – Me too.

Dean could feel the hot tears of the angel wetting his jacket. And it felt good. He wanted it to last forever, for there he felt safe. But after a long time he stepped back and looked once again at Cas, at the loyal and now desperate face, prolonging it as much as he could. 

In the end it was him who walked away. The angel just stood there, watching him go for the last time, the unspoken words still on his eyes, on his tongue, all over him. And all over Dean as well. They had finally said half of them. 

But Cas didn’t feel it was enough.


	3. Sacrifices

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Certain things lost importance in a place like that, while others were all that mattered. What he had to do to get there didn’t matter.  
> Not anymore. Not in Hell.

-So – he said in a mocking tone – how am I supposed to call you?

The man sitting on the chair in front of him joined the hands on his lap, obviously uncomfortable.

-I have many names – he answered – God is good.

-People seem to think so – there was a sharp look on his eyes - but why would someone so good disappear for thousands of years and let all of his creation rot, abandoned, orphan?

-I have my reasons.

The other man giggled. His clothes were dirty and torn, but one could still recognize the trench coat stained of blood.

-We are all lab rats to you, aren’t we? – the angel said – Or you just got tired of all the conflicts present in _your_ creation and decided to go on vacation as a trunk driver?

-I’ve done things while I was on Earth. I have plans for, as you say, my creation, but that’s not the proper time to discuss them, Castiel.

-I should have known it the day you gave me that ride. I mean, I looked like a crazy man, dirty and lost, and you gave me a lift and money and called me kid. Humans are not so good.

The room dived in silence. God was looking at Castiel with caring and worried eyes. He wore a simple brown coat, jeans and a fishing cap. He looked like a perfectly ordinary man but for his eyes, too old and sad for a human. 

Castiel looked dangerous, unlike all he had ever been. He appeared to be unworried; his smile was ease, as if talking to God was mere habit. Beneath it, if you were a good observer, you could see he was just tired. Of everything.

God observed him as a psychiatrist looks at a helpless patient. His eyes showed he wanted to do something for his angel, and also how he thought that would not be possible.

Yet he asked:

-Why are you here, Castiel?

The angel held his look up, facing the man seriously. After a while he chuckled.

-You’re God, you know the answer to that question.

-I certainly do. I just wanted you to tell me so you could hear yourself and realize how absurd it is – he joined his hands below his chin.

Castiel had expected this reaction, yet he looked satisfied and maybe a bit proud. After all he had found God.

-I won’t bring him back, Castiel – God said firmly.

-I know, as I know you could do it if you wanted to.

-Dean chose it. He sacrificed himself for a cause he judged to be worth his life – as he spoke Cas’s hand closed in a tight fist - If I changed it, it would not be fair to his free will.

-Bullshit – Cas leaned forward and hit on the table between them. 

The cup of tea and biscuits Cas had refused flew and were smashed as they reached the ground. 

– That’s all bullshit. You _know_ closing the gates of Hell is not worth Dean Winchester’s soul. You know he’d be better out of there.

-All humans make choices, Castiel. It’s of their nature. And they have to live with them; they grow by dealing with them.

-Dean is being _tortured_ at this very moment – Cas shouted – Where is all of your kindness? Why won’t you do anything? – he shouted, losing completely control of himself, and that was not supposed to happen, it was not on his plan.

As a good shrink, God just looked at him impassively. He waited, and the angel finally sat down, breathing heavily.

-Human choices, human nature. Humans are all of what you care about. And it has always been like this.

-I respect all of my creature’s decisions.

-Then respect mine.

-Dean Winchester sacrificed himself in order to save others. _Your_ decision was to slaughter your own brothers, Castiel. I owe you nothing after this disrespect.

-Maybe if you were available to _help_ me, to help all of us, I wouldn’t have to do it. But you left no address, you just vanished while humankind killed itself through the centuries, while angels turned against one another, while the Apocalypse was about to happen. Don’t you try teaching me moral, for as far as I know your acts are worse than any of mine.

-You forget you don’t know nor understand all that exists. You have no knowledge of my intentions, but I can see through you, and I see yours. And I do not approve of them.

-Doesn’t matter. There’s nothing else you _can_ do, because if you do nothing at all, I won’t stop.

-There’re always the dungeons where Gadreel was put away, in Heaven.

-You would be sending me deliberately to die. After all I did, I wouldn’t last two days in there. The guards are angels, and you would be amazed at how many angels seek revenge these days.

-All of this can be arranged, Castiel – he was upsettingly calm – You forget I have ways of working things out.

Cas hit the table again and this time it broke down.

-This is not fair. Why can’t _my_ will, _my_ decision be respected at least once?

God took a moment to answer but never lost his ease. He was just like a shrink. Indeed he had been one for many years on Earth. And he was very good at it.

-Because you don’t know what you are doing. You think you’re still moved by a noble feeling – he reached Cas’s arm, putting his hand gently over it –A noble feeling you learned from a human. But, after all you did, what’s left is a twitched feeling in the surface, which you claim to be sincere deep inside, but beneath it’s just the same ruined and torn thing.

Cas balanced himself on the chair, uncomfortable.

-You lost your humanity. You lost everything you learned from Dean – as God spoke Cas kept looking down, silently – And now you’re not even an angel as I created you to be.

-Don’t you dare-

Cas lifted his head, looking up but not facing God. He was not angry anymore. The hatred and the mockery were gone from his features. He was just desolated, trying very hard not to cry.

-Don’t you dare saying there’s nothing left of him on me. I’m doing all of this _because_ of him.

Then he inclined his head just enough to look at God. A couple of tears had escaped his eyes and its trails were like scars on his cheeks. Tears. The same tears he had cried over Dean’s shoulder. The same scars.

-Have you ever _felt_ it? – he asked God after a long pause, pronouncing each word slowly.

There was no answer.

-You’ve created everything, you know everything, but have you ever _felt_ it? – he sprang up – _I_ have. I was willing to give up on my grace for him; giving up on my humanity just works the same way. Maybe this is not entirely love anymore, and I know I’ve done awful things, but I don’t care about my humanity, my soul, or anything else, as long as I can be with him.

By that point, God was sure there was nothing left to convince the angel otherwise. He just nodded. For a rare moment he doubted of what to do. But only for a moment, then he raised his eyebrows.

-When it was Lucifer, I gave a great speech about losing yourself and wrong decisions. But back then he was just an example. I don’t believe it’s necessary in your situation.

Castiel swallowed. Was it fear or eagerness or doubt no one could tell. God restrained himself to nod again, looking calmly into the angel’s eyes. He had lost his patient and he had to accept it. He lifted a finger, not as a psychiatrist anymore, but as a father to a son.

-I just hope you know what you’re doing.

Castiel nodded and closed his eyes, waiting.

It was settled then.

The next moment, Castiel fell. And he kept his eyes closed. It wasn’t like falling to Earth, it hurt as nothing he had ever experienced. 

He felt as the air touched and burned his skin, as sharp as a blade. His wings broke. He screamed and cried. And his mind could feel all the loss and pain and darkness of that place.

He was officially a fallen angel.

And there was Hell.

***

Darkness.

A dim light. 

Pain.

And darkness again.

He knew he was chained, he felt iron trespassing his arms and legs. He thought of them as wires, but he couldn’t be sure. In some moments he couldn’t feel them, but then he couldn’t feel his limbs either. 

There were neither nights nor days in Hell. There was only loneliness and shadows of what once had been human souls. Then the door was opened, someone tortured him and darkness fell all over again.

He didn’t know what was worse: being tortured both physically and mentally by some demon or being left alone with nothing but his thoughts, the monsters who peered on him from the dark.

He didn’t fight any of this, for he had chosen to be there, and he was certain he had done the right thing. Sam was safe. All he could do for the world had been done. All of his hunter life had come to this, and he was not regretted most of the time. 

Going to Hell was the perfect closure to his story.

It still hurt though.

Then there were moments when he did regret, when he shouted for mercy. Moments when he would trade anything and anyone for leaving, when he would easily let his brother take his place if it meant the pain would stop. 

In those moments, he feared himself more than anything in that place.

***

The doors were opened. It was that time again.

There was a man chained to a wall. He struggled to stand up in order to face his torturer while he did his job. He always did it.

He was scarred, his skin had deep wounds all over it and he had multiple fractures, some of them exposed. His own brother wouldn’t recognize what was left of Dean Winchester. 

He fell three times till he finally managed to lean against the wall and look up. Then he fell again. There was surprise beneath all the blood and scars on his face.

The man in front of him was no demon.

Dean managed to look up again.

-C-Cas – the word left his lips as a question, a joy and a faint hope at the same time.

Against all odds, a smiled was drawn on Dean’s face. If happiness could be felt in that place, he was feeling it right now.

The former angel looked down at him and as their eyes met Dean perceived something was not right. The smile vanished from his lips.

Castiel stepped towards him and lowered his head just enough so he could whisper in his ear. Dean’s heart was pounding in his chest.

-I’m sorry – were his only words.

Dean didn’t understand why he was apologizing till something in Cas’s eyes made him comprehend.

He was not there to rescue him.

Dean could see it clearly now.

Castiel wanted to tell him - tell him he had tried, he really had, but he just couldn’t get over his death. And then he had tried to take him out of there in every possible way, but he wasn’t strong enough. 

“I’m strong enough neither to do what you asked me to nor to do what I wanted to”- those were the apologies.

Only God was strong enough to open the gates of Hell. So he had managed to find God. He wanted to tell Dean how horrible it was to kill all of those angels, how it would haunt him every second of his eternity.

But he didn’t.

Certain things lost importance in a place like that, while others were all that mattered.

He was there with him. That mattered. What he had to do to get it didn’t. Not anymore. Not in Hell.

He still had one more thing to do. And it couldn’t be done any other way. It being or not an irony from Crowley, it was the only way he had allowance to see him.

He could see Dean was scared and he wish to comfort him, to tell him he wouldn’t have to suffer anymore.

But he’d be lying.

Dean looked at the table which lay on his right. Its surface was filled with torture instruments he had already seen uncountable times. He swallowed, his breath got heavier.

Cas stood there. As if even after all he had done, he couldn’t do _that_.

-Do it – Dean said, his voice betraying his words, showing up his fear – _Do it_.

Unlike past times, Cas didn’t relax at those words, and Dean knew he wouldn’t. Cas didn’t stepped back. Instead he grabbed a knife and pulled Dean up, putting him on a chair, and made the first cut in one of his arms. 

It bled and Dean screamed. Cas put his hand on his shoulder and held it tight. He couldn’t do anything else. 

His eyes wouldn’t leave Dean’s the whole time.

Castiel was not himself anymore, but neither was Dean. What was left was too broken to make a reason out of it. The only thing he could feel now was Dean’s presence. He wanted that moment never to end, but he also couldn’t bear it.

He made another cut, this time in the other arm. Dean screamed again, tears leaving his eyes. It was worse than anything he had ever experienced in Hell, for Cas was doing it. But Dean knew he was there because he needed too, as he knew the angel was the best thing that could have ever happened to him in that place.

When the torture session was over, Castiel left. 

He came back every time after that.

***

 

Cas’s always wanted to tell Dean what he’d once felt. But now it was worthless. They both knew what it was, and he knew Dean felt the same way. He just regretted to his heart they had never actually done anything about it.

Now it was lost.

There are no normal or plain feelings in Hell, all that is felt is just an echo of what it once was.

Echoes were all they had. 

And he would always choose those echoes over nothing.

Now they were together at last, for all eternity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay. First of all, I guess this fic came from those moments when you think the writers will never let your otp become canon. So it all became angst and I wrote a story where they become canon, but don't _actually_ become canon.  
>  Maybe it was too much angst. Next one will be a free angst one.  
> Second of all, hope you have enjoyed it and please, let me know what you think :)


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